


The Oldest Profession

by pinkimartini



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow knows something, Lemon Cakes, Seven Deadly Sins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 06:42:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7303699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkimartini/pseuds/pinkimartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s the son of a presidential candidate. She’s a high price call girl. These are their stories. </p>
<p>Cross posted from the Game of Ships: Seven Hells challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Oldest Profession

She’s checked the address several times. The high-rise is home to most of Washington’s elite. Sansa has been here a few times. This is slightly different. Her client wanted to be sure she could be discreet. The agency had her sign a few non-disclosure agreements before she she was set loose. Her boss, Petyr had left a file open on his desk. Before he snatched it away from her prying eyes, she was able to catch the name, Targaryen. Interesting. Rhaegar Targaryen was a little on the old side, but she guessed he could still get it. His wife seemed a little bored these days. Sansa really hoped he wasn’t into anything too kinky.   
Inside the elevator, she gave herself a once over. Just under six feet, Sansa had done some modeling before Petyr offered her this gig. In the beginning, it was just for fun. A quick way to make some cash. Eventually, she started to notice the other girls were making more money with their more exotic looks. One in particular took an interest in her and helped her to enhance her looks. Sansa refused to give up her fiery locks, even if Shae said she would make more as a blonde. Various skin treatments left her with a glowy ethereal look. She took pilates and ballet to accentuate to the package. Her clients appreciated her flexibility.   
Walking into the suite, there was a slim box with a note that read, “Wear me.” She cracked a smile when she lifted the lid to see a silk mask to cover her eyes. Sansa glanced around the empty room as she walked around with the mask in her hands. Rhaegar must have read one too many 50 Shades type novels if he expected her to wear the ridiculous accessory. She stopped when she saw another note taped to the large window looking out at the city. It read, “Stand here and wait for me. Wear the mask.”   
The note made her shiver. So direct. Something about the words got her mind racing. Maybe this wasn’t Rhaegar. He had two sons. Aegon and Jon. They were considered the ultimate playboys. Every woman from here to Los Angeles wanted to party with them. Sansa pulled on the mask. If she had her choice, she would go with Aegon. He always seemed like the life of the party. Jon seemed to be brooding all the time. She took a deep breath and stood before the window, staring into darkness.   
The soft hush of a door shutting caught her attention. Had he been in the condo? Had he been watching her. She reached for the mask, but he cleared his throat.   
“Don’t take it off.”  
His voice was gruff and his accent thick. She started to turn toward his voice. Sansa hoped he appreciated the view. The form fitting white Herve Leger dress had been Shae’s choice. Shae had said the dress looked virginal, innocent. Sansa had laughed at the idea. The only thing it did was lift her breasts to an obscene level.   
He was close now. She inhaled his scent, whisky and smoke. Raising her hands to touch him, he caught her hands.   
“No touching.”  
“If I”m not to touch you, then how do expect me to do what you…”  
“Let me worry about that.” There was a cockiness to his voice now that made her bite back a smile. 

With the mask, her senses were heightened. He had helped her out of her dress. She knew he was taking in the sight of her body. She hoped he appreciated the work she put into it. Sansa felt his hands ghost along her shoulders and down her arms. His hands were strong, anything but soft. When he finally took hold of her waist, she gasped.   
“I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”  
She felt his voice against the nape of her neck. Sansa had once seen Aegon on an entertainment show. He didn’t sound like this man. Maybe the dossier had been wrong. Rhaegar? No. The voice was not gravely like the older man when he debated on television.   
“When did you see me?”  
“Ah, telling you would give me away. We have mutual friends, darling. I knew I had to have you. I wanted you to look at me the way you looked at your date.”  
Sansa had been on many dates in the last year or so. So many parties and fundraisers, she didn’t know who she had been with. There had been the newly appointed representative to the senate. Willas Tyrell. He was the sweetest man she had ever met. Her mother would have liked him. Sansa gave a sharp intake of breath when she felt his mouth between her legs. The first lap of his tongue had her collapsing. What kind of man?  
With her mask still secure, she crawled to the center of the bed. This man, who she doubted was an actual Targaryen, took hold of her ankle and pulled her toward him. Hard and ready, he moved over her body. Raising her long, smooth leg over his shoulder, he sheathed himself within her. Sansa cried out from his length and girth. She tried to place her hands on his body, but he took hold and placed them over her head. Thrust after thrust, she felt him deep inside. A mix of sweat and tears. How on earth had this man she barely knew rattle her entire soul?   
“Come for me.” His voice was breathless. She could smell her body on his lips, taste herself when he placed a kiss on her brow. Sansa whined from the feeling of being bound so tight and wanting to be free. She didn’t want to be this fembot that Petyr or Shae created. This man that rocked her very core had touched something she had locked away many years ago.   
Her release felt like an electric snap down her spine when she found it. Sansa nearly shrieked as it tore through her. He found his release as well. His body collapsed atop her and she struggled to find her voice. His hold on her loosened and she felt the blood rush to her arms when she lowered them.   
How would she make it through the rest of her days now? It would be a strange feeling to walk around knowing there was a man that wanted you so desperately he paid someone to have you. She wished she could taste his lips again. Feel his hands on her body. His voice would be all she had to go on. She had to know who this man was. 

***  
He had been in the town car no more than fifteen minutes when he watched her leave the condo. She kept looking around for any sign of him. Jon smiled as he looked down at his phone. It was a prepaid account that he was assured could not be traced. He quickly fired off a text and looked up to see if she got it. Within seconds she glanced down to her smartphone and smiled. The message read, “Get some rest, Sansa. I’ll be in touch very soon.”


	2. Greed Never Sleeps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon and his brother, Aegon enjoy a night out when a certain fiery redhead steps on the dancefloor. Jon is greedy for all her attention, he just doesn’t know, his brother feels the same way.

Jon is used to a night on the town with Aegon. His half-brother will have a roped off area with bottle service and a squad of girls. He doesn’t know where they come from, they just are there.   
Cyvasse is a new club, owned by Tyrion Lannister. He likes the guy, probably the only smart in the family. Tyrion had been something of a mentor to Jon. The club got its name from the board game Tyrion would play with him. Late nights drinking wine and telling stories, that’s what Jon remembered of his time living with Tyrion in the old days.   
Aegon is surrounded with girls when he gets to the purple velvet rope. The girls never seem to change. Blonde model types with legs for days. Jon thought they were okay, but they didn’t compare to the fiery haired beauty he’d been meeting up with these days.   
Sansa.   
He had seen her on the arm of the action star, Oberyn Martell. They had been at a correspondent's dinner. She looked bored while Oberyn traded numbers with a few ingenues. It hadn’t been the first time he saw her. Washington had its fill of working girls. Beautiful women that seemed ethereal. They seemed to appear during election years. He knew a few that were in arranged marriages for the sake of appearances. Sansa was a different story. She was one of Petyr Baelish’s girls.   
He wanted her from the moment he saw her. Jon got the idea for her to wear a mask since he knew she wasn’t stupid. His father’s face was everywhere since he announced he was running for president. His stepmother had been against Jon being included in the campaign. Rhaegar had said it would be good. The public would see them as a modern family. Ellia had only relented when she saw Rhaegar’s poll numbers.   
Jon knocked back his glass of whiskey before deciding the club scene was done for. He straightened his fitted suit jacket and got to his feet. Aegon wouldn’t notice he was gone, he was too busy...was that? No, it couldn’t be.   
Over the blaring dance music, Jon caught a thread of his brother’s question to the redhead sitting beside him. He wanted to say something, anything. Would she be able to recognize his voice? The American accent had been easy to mimic since he grew up with Aegon, but sometimes he slipped into his native British accent. One thing for certain, she would not know his face.   
“Where did you say you’re from again? I don’t believe I’ve ever met a girl from the North.”  
Sansa was holding a glass of champagne that looked to be sweating. He noticed she had dipped her nail into the glass and glanced at it before setting the glass away from her. He wondered what that was about.   
“I’m the same kind of girl, just like all the others. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get going.” She pushed her way off the banquette and started to make her leave. Aegon reached out and caught her arm.   
“I didn’t say you could go.”  
Jon saw red. “Let. Her. Go.”   
His words were short and sharp. Aegon dropped his hold on her, she looked his way with something that looked like relief. 

Outside, the air was cool. She waved off the offer of his jacket. He could see the goosebumps up and down her arms.   
“I’m sorry about Aegon.”  
“Don’t worry about it. I can handle myself.”  
“He’s a pig. Thinks all women want him.”  
She crossed her arms before her and shivered. He wished she would take his jacket. The dress she wore stopped at cheek level. Gods, she made him hard. Jon wondered if this feeling would ever stop. This greedy feeling he had when she was near.   
“Do you want to get out of here? I don’t feel very comfortable standing here. The idea he might follow me out here has me a little nervous.”  
Ugh, what was wrong with him? Jon was thinking of taking her in an alley and she was worried about his stupid brother trying to get in her pants. She should be worried about him.   
“Do you want me to get you a car?”  
“No, no...my roommate is still inside with her boyfriend. I’ll just go to the diner across the way and get a coffee. Better than standing in the cold and fending off dragons.”  
Jon barked a laugh. Dragons. It was the sigil that Rhaegar had been using for his campaign ads.   
***  
Jon checked the clock at his bedside table. It was nearly dawn. The bed shifted beside him and he looked to see her settled against his pillows. Her hair was a mess of wild waves. All the worry of her recognizing him went out his head the second she kissed him.   
“I feel like I know you, Jon. Do you feel it, too?”  
He felt terrible for keeping her in the dark about how well he knew her. He wanted to tell her about the fact he kept her blindfolded while they fucked. His insatiable, greedy need to be between her legs. When she sighed his name, it unmanned him. He went wild with his thrusting and coming undone in her arms. This connection they shared was undeniable, but it would all go away if she knew the truth.


	3. These Lusty Tales of Yore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa meets up with an old client. His sister likes to watch. This is for the Cersei x Jaime x Sansa shippers.

She’s used to his bedroom games. Sansa sits with her wrists tied behind her back...with a big red bow. That had been Cersei’s idea. Jaime lounges on the bed with his cigar resting on his lips, his sister tangled in the sheets.  
Jaime was her first client. The relationship wasn’t sexual in the beginning. They mostly traveled around Europe, partying at various clubs, and chasing his twin sister--Cersei. It was odd at first. A brother so in love with his sister, he couldn’t see straight.  
She was thankful he hadn’t blindfolded her. There was enough of that with her Secret Targaryen client, after meeting Aegon at Cyvasse, she was sure he was not her client. Much too brutish. She still didn’t think it was Jon. Sansa thought he was above even a one night stand. She was wrong. Just the thought of him in bed made her wet.  
“Ah, what has you flushed over there, my dear? Thinking of you new boy?”  
“No. I was just thinking about our time in Corfu.”  
“That was a memorable trip.”  
It had been the first time she had been with Jaime and his twin. “I recall being the meat in that sandwich.”  
“You had fun that night. Tell me you didn’t enjoy it.”  
She didn’t have much of a choice when Cersei had climbed into bed with them wearing a strap-on. Toys were always Cersei’s favorite. She used them on Sansa or Jaime, sometimes both. Even now, this was one of Cersei’s little tricks. Sansa adjusted her legs when they started to feel tired.  
“Ah, stand my little wolf. You’ve been on your knees too long. Come here.”  
Her legs were shaky as she stood to her full height. With her hands still tied, she walked over to where he sat on the bed. His eyes seemed to sparkle the closer she stepped.  
“I can only imagine what the punishment will be for getting started without her.”  
Jaime set his cigar aside and moved to the edge of the bed. He was hard lines and muscle. She liked to think of him as a real life Ken doll, only this one had an impressive manhood.  
“I’d imagine we’ll both be punished now.”  
His fingers toyed with her pebbled nipples before covering them with his lips. Dropping her head back, Sansa let out a sigh. She wanted to run her hands through his golden locks, but with her hands tied, all she could do was whine. Jaime continued to suckle her breasts all the while his hands kneaded at her bottom before sinking three fingers between her folds. She gasped as he worked his fingers inside her. She rode his hand until she heard a throat clear from behind.  
Cersei stood wearing a long maroon robe. Her short blonde hair was cut close to the scalp. Bright blue eyes stared with contempt.  
“Please, continue. I’d like to see how my brother enjoys the woman I pay for. It especially excites me the way he disobeys me when I’ve told him that you are not to be touched until I return.”  
Jaime removes his hand from her, leaving a heavy ache within her core still begging for release. “Join us, dear sister.”  
They climb into the large bed with Cersei sitting before Sansa as Jaime takes her from behind. She cries out as he pushes his above average length inside her. Cersei covers her mouth with a kiss. It feels wrong, the woman is much older than her, and Sansa sometimes feels a strong connection with Cersei. She’s met with Cersei alone before and they usually spend their time in bed touching each other. Cersei especially likes it when there is a bit of blood play. Sansa’s thoughts are shook when Jaime slaps her bottom.  
“Stay present, love.”  
Cersei undoes the red bow and Sansa reaches over to touch where Jaime is connected to her. She sometimes feels like he treats sex like a sport with her. Since Cersei took another lover, Jaime has refused to have sex with her. Instead, Sansa is the one he chooses to be with. She doesn’t understand the fucked up game they play, but they pay well. The Targaryen pays just as well. Another slap on her bottom and she bites Cersei’s nipple. At the sound of Cersei’s gasp, Jaime comes with a loud roar.  
****  
As they lounge in bed drinking a Malbec, Cersei toys with Sansa’s hair. Jaime is sound asleep as they whisper amongst themselves.  
“Have you figured out why he wants you to wear a mask?”  
“No, it’s strange. What is he’s some unknown Targ brother with a horrible scar on his face? I met Jon at Cyvasse the other night. He was my first non-paying client since…”  
Just the idea of saying her former boyfriend’s name made her choke up. Cersai placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Hey, from what you told me, Jon was a gentleman. Don’t feel bad for enjoying yourself.”  
“That’s the thing. It felt so familiar. His kisses, his touch. It felt like I was with my client.”  
“I know people, Sansa. I could find out. It’s reasonable he would want to remain anonymous. Jon seeking out an escort is bad for his father’s polls.”  
Sansa glanced over at the clock on the nightstand and saw she was still on their dime for another hour. Pushing Cersei on her back, the younger girl climbed atop her and they proceeded to make love while Jaime slept.


	4. Envy Makes the Heart Grow...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon has been blindfolding Sansa, but soon realizes he’s envious of the mystery man he’s created of himself.

The glass is cool beneath her hands as she attempts to grab at it. Jon’s pounding into her from behind. His hands are all over her body, taking possession of her. He’s softly grunting against her neck, lips pressing kisses along her neck.  
“Can you come with me?”  
His question is so polite and courteous. Sansa thinks about her mystery client and how he takes what he wants. There is no courtesy where he is involved. He makes sure she is writing and screaming for him before he gets off.  
“Yes.” She doesn’t mean for her voice to sound so breathless, but it is. Jon pulls out and leads her to the round bed in the center of the room. He pulls her atop him so that she is straddled over his face and she’s able to take him in her mouth. This is new. She’s about to make a joke when she feels the flick of his tongue. Everything in her core comes to life. She slowly begins to grind her hips and takes him in her mouth. Paying the same attention to his cock as he does her clit, they soon create a rhythm.  
Long strokes from his tongue move up and down her slit before he tastes her while sliding a finger into the tight little opening. His tongue and finger work, her thighs want to snap shut from the fiery feeling climbing through her body. She gives a small moan to let him know she’s close.  
Working her mouth up and down his length, she marvels at the salty bead of cum on her tongue. He’s groomed, his skin is smooth, and his sack is heavy in her hand. She feels his cock bounce as she continues to continues her deliberately slow strokes.  
“Gods, I’m about to explode.” Sansa pauses at the break in his accent. She wasn’t aware he was British. It’s at the same time, he lets go in her mouth. The mood in the room shifts and she makes an attempt to move her lower half from his hold, but his grip tightens. She gives a little whine, he’s not stupid, and will know she’s faking her orgasm. Sansa collapses onto his body and slowly moves off him. 

Her room is at the Standard Hotel in New York City. Jon invited her on the campaign trail, but said she didn’t have to do any of the usual meet and greets. Sansa was thankful. The last thing she needed was anyone digging into her past. Her little brothers and sister were safely away with family, if things had been different and her brother were alive, she would likely be with them, too.  
“Tell me what’s on your mind.”  
She glances at Jon watching her closely. She doesn’t know how much she can share with him, so she takes a deep breath before replying.  
“Jon, I could say the same about you. We barely know each other, but I have to be honest...I’ve got something going on with a guy right now.”  
“It must not be serious if you are here with me.”  
“It’s not like that.”  
Jon bites back a smile before placing a kiss on her lips, “tell me then what is like then. He must not treat you well if you took this trip with me.”  
There is a sad smile that plays on her lips as she looks away. Her mysterious client shouldn’t awaken the feelings he has in her, but he has. The way he kisses her without abandon or the passion he has awakened is more than she can take. This thing with Jon is not the same. Jon is careful in his touch, courteous. He kisses her with care, almost as if he’s holding back.  
“You’ve gone quiet on me. You can tell me, Sansa. I won’t be angry.”  
“He’s nothing and everything to me. I wish I could say more, but I know more about you than him. The last few years have been hard for me, my family. When I’m with him, all those thoughts are out the window. I’m able to turn off the world.”  
It’s Jon’s turn to be silent now. He didn’t expect her to feel this way about him. From the look in her eyes, he can tell she’s falling in love with him--the mysterious man he has created. When he requested she wear a blindfold, he did not expect for their little game to go on for so long. 100 days of seeing her is what it turned into.  
“Sansa, I have something I need to tell you.”  
“No, let’s not say anything more. Let’s have this weekend and we’ll call it for what it was--just a fling. I’m sorry, Jon.”  
Jon took a deep breath before turning away and opening the nightstand drawer. He pulled the soft, black satin sleep mask and sat up. He cleared his throat before saying, “wear this for me.”  
The tone of his voice changed, hell, even his accent changed. Sansa didn’t know what to feel. She reached out with a shaky hand and took the satin fabric from him. Jon was the mystery man. The mysterious client was Jon Targaryen. Her heart was racing from his reveal. For a brief moment she thought of tossing the mask back at him, but her heart didn’t want it to end that way. The connection she felt with him was too much. Let it end in the morning, her mind said. And so she pulled the mask over her eyes. 

She felt the crush of Jon’s lips on her own. The force from the kiss could be felt all the way down to her toes. He was ready at her center, hard and thick. Opening her legs to receive him, she was still wet from before. Sansa’s cried out from the feel of him as he slid inside her. He hiked up her leg around his waist and began to thrust. Running her hands through his hair, she pulled at it when his thrust went deep. Gone were his courtesies. Jon and the mystery man were one. Soft and hard. Was this the man she wanted? Was this the man she had started to fall for? Her heart was doing cartwheels at the idea they were one in the same, but it was still a deception.  
Thrust after thrust, he rolled until she was astride him. He reached up and yanked the mask from her face. Jon could see the tears in her eyes. She leaned down over him until her breasts were aligned with his mouth. He suckled on them, the more she writhed against him--the more it excited him. She was coming undone in his arms once more. Sansa arched her body against his as she cried out his name. He quickened his pace, chasing his own completion to join her. He could feel his entire soul going over the edge of whatever precipice there was when he heard her words, “it’s over, Jon. We’re over.”

Envy was the only word that came to mind when he she left.


	5. Have another lemoncake...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa is still shocked about her mystery client’s reveal. She goes on a lunch date with an old client, but he has other ideas in mind. This is for the Sansa x Willas ship.

She’d chosen a very smart outfit for her night with Willas Tyrell. The billowy seaform top and gray pencil skirt said she was playing the friend and not his personal plaything. Something about his voice had played on her feelings. She was also still smarting from Jon’s big reveal the night before. It also hurt that Cersei was right.   
He was recently back from the Middle East. Something about purchasing a horse from the retired polo player, Oberyn Martell. An injury had left him with a permanent limp. Sansa thought he would have been angry with Oberyn, but the two men had chalked it up to one of life’s many strange accidents.   
Blue Duck Tavern was on Washington’s West End and served mostly American dishes. She’d never visited the place before, but if it got her mind off Jon, then she would gladly eat here any day of the week.   
“You still look just as beautiful.” Willas walked with a cane, his leg still stiff and shaky. He gave her a nervous smile before settling into the booth beside her. They ordered their drinks after he placed a kiss on her brow.   
“I’m really happy to see you. From your phone call, I didn’t know what to expect. You sounded a little down.”  
“I was. I still have my days when I wonder what spooked the horse. Other times, I just think it was stupid to have attempted to ride a wild horse. She was really something.”   
There’s a far off look in his bright blue eyes. It’s a bittersweet look he finally gives her. She nods slowly as if to let him know she understands. Her brother...Sansa blinks back the tears that have gathered in her eyes.   
“Oh, darling, I didn’t want to make you sad for me. Let us order our drinks and maybe a lemoncake ore two.” 

***

The sex is over before it begins. He apologizes for his body. Sansa wants to apologize for not being present. She’d give anything to feel the slap of Jaime’s hand on her bottom. The idea makes her wet. See, she could block out all thoughts of Jon.   
Jon with his brooding eyes. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when he untied the blindfold and turned her to face him. Was it relief she felt? The butterflies in her stomach when she saw it was him and no Aegon or some mystery Targaryen?  
“Tell me about him.” They are in bed together. He’s offered her a t-shirt which she pulls over her head before settling in beside him. He’s still nude, his long runner’s legs tangled with hers. He wishes the closeness of her body turned him on.   
“Who?”  
“The man you’ve fallen in love with. I’ve known you long enough, darling. Your cheeks are flushed and it wasn’t from me. I’ve barely touched you.” He reaches out and runs his fingers down the side of her face. She doesn’t move away from his touch, but she also doesn’t do anything to show him that she wants him to touch her.   
“I wish for nothing more than your happiness, Sansa. I fear there will be a great many broken hearts though. I know my heart is a little more broken now.”  
“Don’t say that, Willas. I will always be here for you.”  
“I fear I cannot give you what you need save for my thoughts. Would that be enough for you? A young woman? I don’t think so.”  
She turns to face him, her blue eyes sparkle from the morning light. He used to love waking up to her beside him before the offer was made. The Targaryen.   
“You’re the most intelligent man I know. Before we met, I didn’t think there were kind men in this world. I had only known two men that were happy to break women. I felt broken. You put me together. I fear you may have to put me together again.”  
Willas took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Stay as long as you want. My home is yours for however long.”  
“Thank you. It means so much to me.”  
“Anything for you, Sansa. Now, I do believe we had some lemon cakes to devour.”


End file.
